


The Magister's Touch

by sauron



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Magister
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-02-28 10:42:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2729435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sauron/pseuds/sauron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's an off day from saving Thedas and the Inquisitor decides to ask the mages about that "sparkly fingers" trick she's heard about, but only former Magister Alexius is available. What better time to pay her <i>favorite</i> magister a visit? Of course, there isn't a simple answer, but more of a demonstration Evelyn Trevelyan needs to receive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Magister's Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Posted on the DAkinkmeme, but this is the first Alexius smut I know of, so I have to share it on here as well. Props to the prompter for the excellent idea. This fic wouldn't be possible without your original idea and need to inspire me. Alexius is an excellent anti-villain and deserves some love.

Earlier that week, the Inquisitor returned from another of her successful excursions, the latest to the sandy hell that a few so kindly dubbed the 'Forbidden Oasis.' The ancient name it had, Vina Hadalus, seemed much more fitting, as it really _was_ the ass end of nowhere. Despite getting sunburned and deciding the only good Hyena was dead and full of twenty arrows, she and the gang closed quite a few rifts and clashed with some Venatori. It was good times, though she was certain she'd be shedding sand for a year.  
  
The shards were still a mystery, and Dorian confirmed her suspicions about where they saw one of those doors before – when they traveled ahead a year to visit his charming ex-mentor Alexius. Speaking of Dorian's onetime mentor, she nearly thanked him for the magical pendant that helped her get a few extra shots in during close scrapes. Almost. It wasn't every day a guy wanted to write to you _and_ send a necklace. The same one who wanted to sit down and charmingly do business, call her friend, and then obviously plan to kill her and rip time to shreds. Then the kicker. He _joined a cult bent on destroying everything just to save his Blighted kid_. What a sad case that guy was. Completely lost, but even Evelyn had to admit it was sad.  
  
That was all over, though. Leliana had since removed the exiled magister's shackles and he apparently was 'strolling' in Skyhold, but it was closer to skulking. Trevelyan only saw him a few times since his trial and usually slipped in a few choice quips, she couldn't help that. She remembered the last, when she caught him walking with buckets of water down a stairwell. "Are you doing floor duty this week, Alexius? You'll want to head to Herald's Rest. Place could use some cleaning after that drinking contest." She recalled him barely meeting her gaze, forcing a nod of respect and responding a despondent "Inquisitor."  
  
Well, no one could tell her she didn't try. For a few weeks, she'd intended giving condolences for Felix, but a month had already passed. Giving that up, admitting she was a bitch, and moving on was simple enough to do. Evelyn wasn't the greatest when it came to consoling anyone, especially ex-Tevinter magisters who attempted to erase her from time.  
  
After turning in some demon samples to that tranquil lady, she headed up a stone staircase, exited over the battlements, then took the door over to the mage tower. For weeks, she was meaning to ask one of them about the “sparkly fingers trick.” From Ostwick to Denerim she'd heard about it in the darker corners – seedy taverns, the brothels – and it seemed like some important secret they'd use, maybe a way to stop headaches or calm the nerves? Cheat at cards? After all the crap she'd been through in the past months, the thought was appealing. Dorian had further piqued her interest by explaining _only certain_ mages possessed the capability. Of course he had to evade her when she asked for a demonstration. Some rubbish about the research section providing better background and experience, unprecedented for such a prima mage like Dorian.  
  
The mage tower was empty, not a soul in sight, and she was shocked to see even the tranquil alchemist from Redcliffe wasn't in. She was going to ask him. The Inquisitor groaned and looked to see if _any_ door showed signs of life behind it. There was hope in the lower level after all. The Glorified Broom Closet, as she and Dorian so smugly addressed it, was occupied. _Perfect_.  
  
Three loud knocks heralded the Herald's arrival. “It's the Inquisitor,” she attempted modulating her voice so it came off more commanding like a Cassandra type of hardass. The silence behind the door was disappointing. Was her impersonation _that_ bad? And here she thought Alexius was the closest thing to a steady relationship she had at Skyhold. Maybe she should have brought a fruit basket in the first place.

The bolt of the door turned and it opened with a slow creak, _oh so foreboding_ like a cliché in one of those Varric knockoffs. Dagger soon in hand, Evelyn stepped to the side and peeked into the small gap opened for her. “Inquisitor,” Alexius monotoned, obviously not overjoyed to see her, blocking the view into his room. She assumed he had guards on watch, but they were nowhere in sight. Apparently when Leliana turned him free, the guards took it as playtime to go get a drink at the tavern.  
  
“I've got a few questions a mage can answer, Alexius. Are you going to let me in, or make me get the guards over here again? I'm sure they'd love to interrupt drinks and storytime with the Chargers to babysit you.” She studied his face and saw barely anything flicker, except for the briefest glare as he turned away from the door. After stepping inside, she gave a once over of the modest room. One half looked well-kept, primarily the living side, and his study side was spotty at best; one desk was covered with parchments and magical components she couldn't name, while the other was neatly lined with tomes. He was a bit weird but Tevinter sorts were all nuts, as far as she could tell, just different types of crazy. “It's been awhile, hasn't it?”  
  
Alexius fought the urge to ignore her and turned around, staring at the Inquisitor's neck, rather than her face. “You surprise me with your presence, Inquisitor. To what do I owe this pleasure?”  
  
“Wow. Say that again. I like that one,” Evelyn challenged. If he was going to start with false pleasantries after all they'd been through, she was all ears.  
  
His feeble attempt had failed. She saw just how much that first greeting had strained him and there was no way he'd pull off another so soon, with the blank expression he was giving her.  
  
“...You mentioned you had questions?” Alexius wasn't interested playing her game. Evelyn was fully convinced he hated her, even if Dorian explained to her that Alexius hated _everything_ and was waiting for death.  
  
The Inquisitor sighed. “Look, Alexius. I know you can't stand me, so I'll get to the point.” She clasped her hands behind her back and tried remembering what her eldest brother told her was the most intimidating posture at the noble parties. Too bad she'd skipped that tutoring to sneak out the servant quarters so many times.  
  
For a moment, the magister angled his head barely high enough to meet her eyes with tired scorn, like one of her exasperated tutors. “Perhaps you should pass your questions on the spymaster or Fiona.”  
  
“So the first piece of business is a definition. You're the bookish sort, Gereon, so Dorian tells me, so I thought you'd be a good bet.” Trevelyan sucked in a breath and prepared for the worst. “ _Sparkly fingers_. What is that?”  
  
The disgraced magister furrowed his brows and gazed over skeptically. “Dorian would know.”  
  
Oh come on. “Maybe I have asked him and he won't tell me. So what is this trick?” Evelyn crossed her arms, not about to give up.  
  
"It's better demonstrated than told," he began cryptically. The curiosity grew, she couldn't lie. The guy was a total bastard, but he knew how to make mundane things sound rather captivating with his oratory. No wonder the Magisterium apparently loved him at one point. The guy radiated Tevinter.  
  
"Yeah, great. I'm waiting for a demonstration." Trevelyan wasn't so chatty when she wanted results and they were being dangled in front of her face.  
  
Alexius looked to Trevelyan like she'd become a demon and heaved a tired sigh. "You're kidding me."  
  
Trevelyan jabbed a finger toward the magister, not about to back down. "Don't play coy, Alexius. You're only here because of _my_ judgment. Would you rather be Fiona's servant? You should have heard of some of the duties they were planning to give you, had I handed your sorry ass over to them."  
  
He was silent for a time, glaring up to her as he did, then seemed to lose whatever anger or disgust there was. It didn't take long to die out; Dorian really was right, the guy had no fight left in him. "So be it,” he yielded. “Sparkly fingers is what a lot of southerners call the use of magic for pleasure purposes.”

 _Oh_. Hearing Alexius say that was hilarious, and Evelyn had to admit it was a bit shocking for him of all people to mention. She suppressed a grin with all her might.  
  
"I don't have any other inside knowledge on it. Why don't you go ask Dorian?" He was retreating, suspicious gaze lingering. And after that, Alexius was already trying to make her leave. She wasn't surprised in the least, watching as he returned to his worktable and turned his back to her.  
  
"No, there's more to this. If you know what it is, then you know what it _does_ and the theory behind it." Evelyn came up beside him. Dorian had a point as far as Tevinter hygiene went. They always smelled good – like some exotic oils in Dorian's case, or in Alexius' case, soap and some incense. How much water did those two waste in a week? How did her ex-prisoner get his hands on scent? Who was sneaking it into Skyhold when she was gone? She'd have to have a word with Vivienne later.  
  
"And what will that mean, Inquisitor? What _is_ your bidding, for me to change my research focus? I thought my work studying the Breach was of greater importance." Alexius stated it with disbelief, like he was talking to a lesser. Yeah, so Evelyn wasn't a mage. She certainly wasn't going to put up with an ex-magister's pathetic attempt at playing lord with her.  
  
Evelyn bit her bottom lip and smiled. "I don't know, shall we discuss terms?" That was stupid, she thought in retrospect.  
  
Surprisingly, he laughed. “You have _no_ idea what you're doing, do you, Inquisitor? You sit on your _throne_ , you pass out judgments, but you have _no_ plan. You make it all up.”  
  
She might have slapped him, if she found that actually offensive. Honestly, it was a spot on assessment.  
  
"So what if I do? And here I thought your letter and amulet were straight from the heart." Standing so close to him, she really could see his age, all those stress lines from worrying madly about his son. As far as men looked around Skyhold, he was a strange one. His smile though – that _leer_ – it shaved about five years off him in the right light. Evelyn had to admit she appreciated its no-good-intentions charm. And what he considered a beard, little more than a dusting your average Ferelden man would grow in a day, was a riot.  
  
Uncomfortable silence passed far too long, and Evelyn wasn't going to rule out Alexius might use a spell on her or do that teleportation he did in the future. He didn't, dropping the magical equipment in his hands to the workbench and chuckling. "Is this so satisfying, to see how far you can grind me into oblivion, destroy any dignity I have left? I was foolish to think you'd grant me the headsman."  
  
 _Maker_ , she'd already killed him once in the future, shooting an arrow through his skull. Frankly, remembering that made her feel a bit like shit, but she wasn't admitting it. "Look, I can keep listening to this self-loathing thing you've got going here, Alexi, but I'm actually more interested in what you know about the fingers trick. Are you knowledgeable or not?"  
  
He stood a bit straighter and made eye contact. "I am. This would ruin you if they found out, with an apostate prisoner from the Imperium no less."  
  
 _Oh shut up_ , she only rolled her eyes. "As long as I have the glowing hand, no one's going to do anything."  
  
Alexius hesitated, gave another despondent sigh, then walked over to the door.  
  
She wondered if he'd try giving her the boot, watching intently and missing that soap smell that made her nearly feel clean.  
  
He pressed his palm against the door, and a flash of blue illuminated it before fading. A seal, perhaps? Leaving the door, Alexius approached her slowly, hesitantly, and then his face gave way to a crooked smirk. Maybe she should have been the one to bolt; with no guards and the door sealed, and no bow, she was evening the odds. The dagger was with her, but perhaps she'd fallen right into a more elaborate trap.  
  
His voice slid like velvet as he drew closer, "Are you _sure_ you want to know, Inquisitor?"  
  
Evelyn stepped back until she hit the cold wall. That she wasn't expecting. At. All.  
  
Evelyn gave a nervous laugh, feeling the heat reach her cheeks as he stood so close. "I don't know, does this include blood magic?"

Alexius gave a hollow laugh and backed off a bit. "No."  
  
 _What a creep_. "Look Alexius, you've never intimidated me." So she was bluffing a bit, but it was the right response.  
  
He met her gaze. "Is that a challenge, Inquisitor? Give me a chance and I'll change my approach."  
  
Trevelyan arched a brow. "What if I am?" She was loving it, already feeling the blood rushing. Finally some excitement!  
  
He shook his head. "It depends. I am your agent, or is it prisoner?"  
  
“Maker grant me guidance, just _fuck_ me already, Alexius. Can't you get your staff up anymore? Get your fingers sparkling and shove them up my cunt. You've wanted to awhile.” Evelyn returned a smug smile of her own.  
  
The magister was finally at a loss for words, standing there with his mouth slightly agape.  
  
“Actually, I'd like your sparkly fingers _all_ over me, magister. That's a command.” She rested her hands over her breasts, cupping them through her tunic. “Start up here, magister, you'll figure it out.”  
  
The Inquisitor wasn't prepared for Alexius raising a hand to her cheek almost affectionately, the sensation underneath his fingertips titillating and warm at once. It barely registered, then intensified to the point where her cheek was practically thrumming with the magic. She ached as the arcane energy traveled through her body in a wave before dissipating, and unconsciously thrust her hips back into the wall.  
  
Her reservations at the magic – something usually thrown at her to kill – quickly faded with each sympathetic stroke on her cheek. Evelyn let out a sigh, imagining what those long and practiced fingers would feel like in other places, like inside her. It figured the evil apostate magister was the one willing to get kinky at Skyhold.  
  
As he brushed one finger against her lips, the Inquisitor instinctively opened her mouth. The magister was quick to slide it in. _Thank Andraste_. She sucked the finger and licked it, then another, warm with magic added to the mess of sensations. She was quivering everywhere, and finally relaxed against the wall as he caressed her tongue.  
  
“Inquisitor, it seems like you're enjoying this. Shall I continue?” Alexius studied her, clearly intrigued. Evelyn nodded, holding back a moan.  
  
After another minute of the fingers, he gave her that grin, teeth barely showing, so very forced. “I sealed the door,” he admitted, in a low tone. “Otherwise, it has no lock.”  
  
Evelyn stared for a moment, but the Tevinter was quick to speed the pace, hands moving to that uniform she'd been given to wear at the keep. She hated the thing; even Alexius had something better, though the white and red was a bit much. He got the top buttons unfastened in less than a minute, tingly fingers soon inside and brushing over her wrap.  
  
“How do you even do it?”  
  
“Just weak magic in the right spots...” That was all Alexius really had to say to Evelyn on the subject of _how_ , and she decided the theory behind it didn't matter. Getting off and having the magister do it was the thrill now. The worry was mostly gone; he seemed gentle enough and she was already feeling pretty wet.  
  
By what must have taken magic, Alexius had her top fully open and struggled to pull it off her.  
  
“Burn that fucking thing, please, while you're at it,” Evelyn murmured, raising her arms to speed it along.  
  
“Isn't it the uniform?” He was already busy with her upper smallclothes, but paused to look up.  
  
Evelyn shook her head. “I command you to destroy it, magister.”  
  
Alexius threw the top aside and cast a yellow flash of magic he was probably forbidden to use, ripping the light brown monstrosity to small tatters. _Ugly uniform confetti_. Making his room even more of a mess was what she wanted. The air buzzed with magic and she cautiously gazed to him, keeping the dagger concealed at the back of her belt.  
  
“That's a third present, magister. I knew you adored me.” Something flickered in his eyes for a moment, perhaps conflict of interest, maybe hate, but he went back to the wrap, finally removing it and freeing her breasts. He recognized the cooldown amulet he made her, fingering the crystal between his fingers.  
  
Evelyn looked down after a pause. “Something wrong?”

“N-no, Inquisitor.” Alexius seemingly hadn't seen breasts in years, and paused, before lowering his head to her bosom. He spoke nothing of her amulet.  
  
The kisses and nonmagical touches that followed made her nipples hard and were powerful, enough to weaken her legs. Alexius knew what he was doing. He sucked one bud eagerly, nipping it to the point that she arched her hips off the wall and against him. Evelyn slid a hand over his head, enjoying the sensation of the buzzed hair against her fingertips. “Fucking mage,” she groaned, as he sucked the other nipple. “I still hate you.” She dug her fingernails into his scalp roughly, and with a grunt, he responded by giving her other breast so much of a shock she arched her back. Evelyn followed up by clawing her other hand against his scalp and holding him there for a minute. His tongue worked wonders along with his fingertips, reducing her to goo by the time she relinquished her grip on his by then bleeding head.  
  
“Finger me now,” Trevelyan gasped.  
  
Standing up, Alexius curled his lips. “No more commands, Inquisitor,” he warned, voice menacing. She didn't expect the magister seizing her by the shoulders seconds later, pulling her away from the wall and literally heaving her onto his bed. Her dagger clattered to the floor, forgotten. The glow from his fingers changed from a silver to crimson, and he cut her pants off with a few well placed slices of magic. “You hated the top; I assumed you _hated_ the bottom,” he explained, kneeling next to her on the bed, a simple, yet sturdy Ferelden design. Serviceable for a few poundings.  
  
Classy. “Thank you,” Evelyn got comfortable and sprawled back. Her smallclothes were the last thing left between him and the spot that was practically dripping by then. “Gereon, right...you don't mind if I call you that?”  
  
The magister relaxed a bit closer to her. “If you insist.”  
  
“But you signed that letter with your name,” she continued, trying to ignore his intent stare.  
  
He didn't answer, lowering his lips to her jaw, leaving a series of light kisses against her chin, then licking the length of her most visible scar, until she squirmed and he resumed kisses on her cheek. Evelyn breathed a sigh of relief, only to cry out in surprise, when she felt energy surrounding each of her breasts, his palms pressed firmly against them, kneading. He followed by brushing his fingertips against her nipples, pinching, massaging and stroking enough magic to make them numb. After a third moan of pleasure, The Inquisitor noticed the magister was smiling. She grabbed him by his tunic's fastening and pulled him into position, kissing hard and likely bruising his lips.  
  
Alexius returned it by giving a possessive kiss of his own and straddling her, hands sliding up to her wrists. Trevelyan was taken by surprise at the change, but wasn't really put off by it. In fact, she saw a lot of potential, as she grinded her hips up against him. Those stupid Tevinter fashions covered too much of him, though, and she broke one of her hands out of his grip; it wasn't that strong anyway. He paused, watching confoundedly as she struggled to unfasten one of the belts of his top. “Perhaps we ought to concentrate on you...Inquisitor?”  
  
“I don't fucking think so, magister.” Evelyn reached under his top with her other hand, finding the belt of his pants, and having better luck with that more familiar clasp. _I'm going to ride you all night_. That was a promise she'd have to keep.  
  
Again, he pulled her wrists up and pinned them behind her head, against the pillows. “I think so.”  
  
Evelyn didn't like being entirely dominated. “Fingers,” she responded. “Cunt. Now.”  
  
Alexius seemingly _read_ her mind, scooting down the bed and pulling off her smallclothes, exposing her. Rather than spend time slack jawed, he went to work, the magic ebbing from his fingers and first making contact with her inner thighs. Evelyn jerked up a bit in surprise at what felt like a shock far too close for comfort. Breasts were one thing, but getting shocked down there...

“Easy, Inquisitor...I've _barely_ started,” he calmed, giving her a faint grin. She knew she'd regret it in the morning. The magic ceased, and two ordinary hands coaxed her legs slightly apart. The Inquisitor was pliable for the moment and more than wet, and Alexius noticed it and gave a chuckle, sliding his pointer finger barely over the mound, tracing the glistening slit. “All for _me_ , Inquisitor? To think, maybe I could have averted failure by seducing you in the tavern and fucking you senseless upstairs.”  
  
“You give yourself too much credit, Alexius, don't make me regret this –” Evelyn was _already_ regretting it, but the Tevinter ass just wasn't playing fair.  
  
He lowered his mouth to her, licking the slit from top to bottom once. Evelyn gripped the sheets and sighed. The magic returned, but that time against her sides and torso, where Alexius caressed her bare skin. His smooth hands slid down her body, exploring firmly, though with tenderness. “That was the last thing on my mind,” he deadpanned. He took extra care over her scars and bruises, tracing them with curiosity.  
  
She'd forgive him, maybe, if he would just get back to what she was using him for. “Not impressed.” Alexius responded by circling her clit once with his tongue, while brushing a tingling fingertip against her anticipating entrance. She rose an inch off the bed. _Impressed._ Evelyn breathed _yes_ and attempted to relax.  
  
There was no chance of that, with what the magister had planned. He slid the first digit in, magic still faint, exploring her, gently probing. The Inquisitor closed her eyes and relaxed, spreading her legs just a bit wider in anticipation. Alexius took the opportunity to introduce a second finger, warm heat, inside. Evelyn's body was beginning to catch up with the pleasure, breasts rising and falling with her breaths, legs and feet grinding against the bedsheets for a futile release.  
  
The caressing and teasing continued for another minute, then the magister raised both fingers to his mouth and sucked them thoroughly, before plunging them both into her again, along with a third. The magic had changed, and it felt like he might have been casting water into her, had she not known better. The cool sensation gave way to the gentle shock she came to enjoy most, yet also fear. It was barely a shock, more like a throbbing she couldn't _stop_. Evelyn moaned, feeling his fingers caressing her slick entrance, only to slide inside once more, pressing, teasing, stroking. “Alexius... _fuck_.” Trevelyan managed, gasping. “More.” She whimpered as he pressed a fourth and final finger deep inside, stretching and teasing back and forth, the magic ebbing and flowing with each stroke, deliberately.  
  
Evelyn was going to orgasm on the spot _any second_ , so naturally he had to stop.  
  
“Please...” she groaned, her aching body begging for a release.  
  
The Tevinter sat up and watched as Trevelyan moved her hips a few times, her pink cunt spread open wide and imploring him to finish what he started. He undressed partially, removing the belts and straps from the overly complicated garment.  
  
Returning to Evelyn, he pressed a hand against one of her legs, caressing the thigh, then slid two fingers of his other hand right inside her, without warning. The magic brought her close to climax once again and the Inquisitor arched off the bed, straining for the right angle, touch, or anything to make her come.  
  
Alexius denied her again. She whimpered, she moaned, and finally started insulting. “Vint PRICK!” she growled, as he withdrew his fingers. He noticed she was quivering, legs shaking, body moist with sweat. “You're comely, Inquisitor, and I continue to marvel at your language,” he stared down to her, licking his lips. Having her beg was definitely pleasing him.

He rested his fingertips against her mound, gently spreading her wide. Magic radiated from his fingertips against her swollen flesh. Evelyn was _so close_ , and her body gently shook when she felt his fingertips slowly rise, eventually circling against her clit, stroking, teasing, rubbing, and giving an overload of sensations from the magic.  
  
Her climax came hard, the magic taking it to lofty heights she never dreamed of. Her legs thrashed against the bed, rocking the frame against the stone floor. Alexius continued to work her, inserting a few fingers. He smiled down, as she clenched around him, in a long violent orgasm. The Inquisitor rode it out, body rigid and untamed.  
  
Once she finished, the magister sat next to her and reserved her a small grin of satisfaction. He stroked her cheek once, then began to stroke her hair.  
  
Evelyn rested, eyelids heavy, but had no intention of actually sleeping. Yes, Alexius provided her with an earthshaking orgasm and she had to thank him for that, which brought her to her second goal: she still intended to fuck him unconscious. Perhaps she was getting lofty, with her Inquisitorial power, or maybe the bastard just deserved it. Her cunt was going to ache for at east a day, probably a week after he decided to draw it out.  
  
The magister was starting to get comfortable and it was time to let loose. There was no way she'd let that fly. _I don't like you that much_ , she thought, watching him settle down next to her. She didn't ruin his moment just yet, he did deserve a small triumph, after all.  
  
“Gereon?” Evelyn smiled up sweetly to him. “Why won't you make love to me the normal way?”  
  
“You didn't strike me as the type interested in the traditional methods,” Alexius said reasonably, thankfully removing his hand from her by then. “If you'd like, Inquisitor, I suppose we can fit _it_ in.” He gave her a crooked grin, the connotation glaringly evident.  
  
“Horrible joke.” Evelyn managed to sit up, stretching her legs. Alexius was marveling at her, she _knew_ , and now it was her time to smile.  
  
The thing about rogues was that the smug and lazy mages never saw them coming. And Alexius, despite everything he'd been through, was still a smug bastard with a lot less stamina than her. Evelyn stroked his cheek once, then his scalp she'd drawn blood on. “I was thinking,” she began,” bringing her other hand to his shoulder. “It's time to undress you.”  
  
“This isn't necessary, Inquisitor,” Alexius protested, attempting to bat her hand away. Her grip was firmly clenched, and he furrowed his brows to Trevelyan and gave her a questioning glare, but it was too late.  
  
Evelyn grabbed the former magister by the neck and had him on his back in seconds. _Too easy really_ , she lamented, ripping at his clothing. Even without the straps, Tevinter rags made no sense.  
  
Alexius wasn't about to give up either, trying to sit up underneath her. She pushed him down down firmly. _What was it with Tevinters and dragon styled clothing, seriously_? Underneath her, he brought his knee up, another attempt to move, but Evelyn jabbed him close to the groin with her knee. He backed off, and she got an opportunity to rip the crimson tunic off of him.  
  
He wasn't one of the buff guys she traveled with sure, but he wasn't bad, and not a scarred mess. “Your body's nicer than your face, no offense,” she admitted, working again on his pants. They were off in short work, leaving her with a very evident erection to take care of that had gone unattended for far too long.  
  
“Don't you want to get off, Alexius? Why only for me?” She squeezed him through his undergarments and he groaned. If he wanted to play silent treatment, that was fine with her. Evelyn gave his cock another playful squeeze and the magister squirmed. She gave a devious smile down to him and continued to stroke him through the fabric until he begged her to stop.

She gave him a break for a few minutes, but gave him no guarantees, pinning him to the bed the entire time. “Time's up Alexius,” she finally remarked, pulling off his smallclothes. He looked uncomfortable, but unable to place what she said; he wasn't around for that phrase, but perhaps her words brought to mind too many bad experiences.  
  
“Sorry,” she stroked him a few times, satisfied with his size, then slowly took him into her mouth, wet heat around his length just long enough to barely pleasure him. As his hand reached her hair, she let up on him, teasing just the tip of the head with small licks. “Remember when I said I was going to ride you all night, you Tevinter idiot?”  
  
Alexius's reverie of pleasure was cut short. “Not...that I recall,” he gasped, looking closer to his usual despondent self.  
  
“You _need_ this,” she teased, climbing up and straddling him. She positioned him into her wet entrance with a sigh and brought herself down, working her hips against him, with him, and often faster than his rhythm.  
  
Evelyn changed positions, resting forward against him, forcing his hands up against the bed. For the majority of the night, she held the magister down, thrusting, rocking, and depriving the man of the final say, only providing him with a climax when she liked how he begged.  
  
The mages had long since returned to their tower, most heading to bed, and a few staying up to read books by candle or mage light. None dared venture downstairs that night or ask the magister for results, judging from the strange noises that echoed upstairs every so often.  
  
Her cunt was sore, but she pressed down one last run, squeezing his cock hard enough for him to cry out hoarsely, what he'd been doing since he strained his voice halfway through the night.  
  
At last, she was satisfied with fucking Gereon at least, despite his lack of colorful language. Where were the Tevinter insults, the threats? Trevelyan shakily climbed off and settled in next to him, with a delighted whimper.  
  
They were exhausted – even Evelyn with her favorite magister's amulet. Gereon had managed to pull it off of her two rounds before, to be fair.  
  
Minutes passed, and they were ready to pass out. The Inquisitor had to say something and get a last word in. The night wasn't truly over.  
  
"So, am I _still_ a mistake who shouldn't exist?"  
  
Alexius groaned in frustration and turned over. He was already fast asleep by the time Evelyn slipped out in a stolen mage robe to go catch drinks at Herald's Rest and celebrate fucking her first and favorite magister.


End file.
